


Of Choices and Faith

by 06seconds_left



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:14:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9539348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/06seconds_left/pseuds/06seconds_left
Summary: "Your story does you little credit then," Tharkay said. "Why take the trouble of, in your words, 'travelling back through time' if you weren't hoping to change the past?""Because nothing needs to be changed," the impostor said. "Everything I have done, you will choose to do as well, unfortunately. My role here is merely that of an observer."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tanyart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [tanyart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart) in the [selfcestfest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/selfcestfest) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
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> Haha, gosh. Any version of Tharkay after being in Australia confronting a super bitter/mistrustful Tharkay from Black Powder War. They can talk about Laurence if the writer wants. I would be THRILLED if the events from League of Dragons are mentioned, especially about Laurence totally willing to 1v1 fight Napoleon Bonaparte for Tharkay-the-captured-spy, or, hell, bring up the time when Laurence rescues Tharkay from torture (and gets his memory back??????) Anyway. The Tharkays being incredibly snarky and sarcastic with each other would be great and Future Tharkay going on about, “hey, you wanna know how Laurence kisses?” and driving past Tharkay’s blood pressure up the damn wall. thank you.

Tharkay stared, long and hard at--everything. The well-fitted coat, the polished and downright extravagant walking cane, the shiny boots.

It was revolting.

"Well," the stranger said, "it certainly is different being on the receiving end of that expression."

\--

The trip had been long and uneventful, and every step Tharkay took towards his temporary lodgings brought him slightly closer to privacy--to rest. The letter of import now delivered, he could look forward to several days of quiet at the most, and a day's rest, at the very least.

The front door of his current lodgings creaked slightly as he pushed it open, and he was immediately greeted by a fierce cry.

His eagle glared at him, from its perch on another man's arm, the latter whom touched the tip of his hat in greeting.

The gesture burned in his stomach, and Tharkay felt his fingers twitch.

"I trust the delivery went well?" asked the shadow--his future self, Tharkay thought, and the very notion of it remained absolutely ludicrous.

"Certainly," he answered without pause, stepping further into the room. "And I trust you have found the quarters to be suitable?"

"It is just as I remember," came the answer, accompanied by a wry look about the room. "As is our friend here."

Tharkay kept his breathing steady, and claimed the nearest chair for himself. The eagle was not feeding--the table nearby was clean, as was the floor--merely sitting comfortably in its perch, and showed no signs of hostility, which went a long way in supporting his shadow's explanation from several days prior. Still, Tharkay was inclined to skepticism until proven otherwise, and occasionally, even then.

"I understand completely," the man responded, when Tharkay said as much, and set the eagle back onto its perch. "A necessity. After all, I scarcely acted differently, and don't expect you to either."

"Your story does you little credit then," Tharkay said. "Why take the trouble of, in your words, 'travelling back through time' if you weren't hoping to change the past?"

"Because nothing needs to be changed," the impostor said. "Everything I have done, you will choose to do as well, unfortunately. My role here is merely that of an observer."

Tharkay clenched his jaw, an involuntary reaction that he immediately suppressed. "You are contradicting yourself. Every word you have said to me so far is to influence my decision."

"Only as much as the future self I encountered influenced me." Here, he smiled. "I was told it was necessary for the sake of consistency."

"Regardless, I have no reason to return to Istanbul," he said sharply.

"I think you will find yourself of a different mind shortly. Wouldn't you like to see for yourself the man he is?"

"Why should I need to, when you could simply tell me?"

"Well as you have asked," he agreed, and before Tharkay could say otherwise, continued, "Consider: this man will suspect you, then openly censure you, even as you save his life repeatedly. And several months into your acquaintance, he will surprise you with an offer like no other. Suddenly, you have this gentleman giving your opinion due consideration, as if, dare I say, it mattered to him." At Tharkay's hard look, he continued, "He will value your company, count you among his confidants, and strive to do right by you. When you are lost in the dark cellars, he will find you, and when you are but moments away from the gallows, he will go to war with Napoleon himself to rescue you from the gallows."

Tharkay stared. "You cannot be serious."

"I assure you, I was as surprised as you are now, to be courted so."

Abruptly agitated, Tharkay stood, and fetched some raw meat from his stores. The act of feeding his eagle was routine, cultivated more out of a choice freely made then an obligation, and he found some comfort in the pinpricks of pain as the eagle's sharp beak tore at his skin, grounding him.

It was in this slightly less agitated state that the aviators found him, and Tharkay answered their questions as much as his own curiousity would allow him--which is to say he spoke honestly and in good detail where detail was required, even as he took care to prevent his attention from lingering overlong. His thoughts were similar to their first meeting--the captain was certainly not unhandsome, but he could see nothing of the character that had merited so much praise from his shadow. He was rigid, holding himself so sternly that Tharkay felt his own back ache, but he was polite enough, where many others would not have bothered to be.

"Will you assist us?" Captain William Laurence asked.

Tharkay cast a glance to where his future self sat, and despite the irritation boiling underneath his skin, accepted the job.

\--

It must be some form of trickery, Tharkay decided, as he watched his shadow ask one the dragon's crew members for a spare harnesses. The man said nothing to the request, simply went and fetched it wordlessly, and after handing it over, blinked a few times as if to clear his head, before moving away. Tharkay watched the event unfold in his own silence, standing clear of the crew as they prepared for departure.

"It is a curiousity, but also to our benefit," his shadow observed later, while Tharkay strapped his own harness into place. "Otherwise, we would both have to suffer through endless questions, and then how will we ever see the end of this journey, and the happy culmination of years of faithful service."

Tharkay, who for his part, was already beginning to reconsider his decision, could hardly make an answer, being the more immediately noticeable one of the two. Instead, he kept his head down, and the urge to draw his knives against himself, to himself. There was cannon-fire, then an ear-splitting roar, and then they were off, soaring amongst the skies.

\--

When at last the crew came into view, Tharkay rode forward to meet them. "They told me of having seen you; I am glad you thought to follow," he said.

But his slight relief at seeing them soon dissolved into something darker, as the captain took this greeting and returned, "Are you?"

The words were brisk, delivered with suspicion, and Tharkay felt them settle heavy in him, twisting his expression even as he beckoned Captain Laurence to follow. Later, he made camp some distance away, conscious of the new quality to the crew's regard of him. His shadow sat by his side, and made no comment, only met his gaze with a rueful expression, before turning away to feed their eagle. Tharkay sat down to his meal which, despite the novelty of being stew for once in the trip's bland pattern of preserved meat, tasted far, far drier.

\--

The suspicion grew, as Tharkay anticipated it would. In the marketplace, in between making camp--repeatedly, the captain turned untrusting eyes his way, and Tharkay felt them burn, bore them in the same manner he had survived his childhood, his adolescence, his adult life. None of it was new, save for his own misplaced expectation. He set up his tent, and when that was done, went and sought solace, only to find he had once more been preceded, his shadow speaking quietly to the eagle. Irritation flared, and he turned to his knives instead, testing their edges against his cold-numbed hands.

Early next morning, he stepped out of his tent to the same sight, but just as annoyance peaked once more at having his intentions interrupted yet again, his shadow lifted the caged eagle towards him. Tharkay paused at the gesture, and accepted the bird, neither of them speaking.

(Later, he held the limp body in his hands, surrounded by an ocean of snow.)

Later, Tharkay laid awake in his bedroll, thinking of blue eyes shimmering with fury. "You were wrong."

"I assure you I was not," his shadow replied, making minute noises as he shifted.

"He is not as you said he would be," he said, and regretted the words instantly. Anger sparked in his throat at having believed--at having allowed himself to hope for something he should have known better than to wish for. He swallowed, felt keenly the disappointment washing bitter down his throat. "There is nothing here for me."

"Ah, Tenzing. Telling you so was a mistake on my part," he said, "on all our parts. But it was done once, and it must be done again."

Tharkay closed his eyes, felt again the urge to apply fist to face at this needless bush-beating. "If all my foretold future holds is this overdressed, vague, all-knowing me, then I want none of it. You can keep your lands, your wealth. I have all the liberty I could want, travelling on my own, and I can't fathom why you would give all that up to settle in the very lands that exiled us, if only because it was cheaper than killing us and hiding the body. Was it worth it, selling yourself out for meaningless English lands that never did, and certainly, never will accept you as one of their own? Was it worth forgiving all those years of abuse and neglect, of loathing?"

By now his chest was heaving with the effort of restraint, and surely some of his words must have carried across the camp, but Tharkay could not bring himself to care, not here, not now, when, after years of depending only on himself for survival, he had at last, been betrayed by his very own self. He was furious, so affected was he that he could barely draw breath, and laid there, panting for air.

But this grotesque version of himself only held his gaze. "It was," he said simply, and turned away.

\--

"You will be happy to know," he began, "that today is the day we part ways."

Tharkay looked up in surprise, and slowed his steps. After a moment, he led them around the next corner, further from the house of Avraam Maden and towards a secluded area, private enough for conversation. "This is unexpected. Have you already grown weary of reliving the better years of your life?"

"On the contrary, I would wish for nothing more than to put off this parting for another day or two, but circumstances don't allow it. You, however, are most welcome to enjoy it in my absence."

Tharkay thought of his next destination, of the people waiting in that house, and had to close his eyes briefly. "I must thank you, for you have been of great assistance throughout this trip. Certainly, I wouldn't have survived this long in such a suspicious company without your guidance."

"It was entirely my pleasure," he answered, wearing a mocking expression. "Would you like one last word of advice before our tearful farewell?"

Tharkay, who had just been entertaining a similar thought, looked up sharply. "I expect you will tell me regardless."

"Only because you wish to know." He leaned forward, clapping a friendly hand onto Tharkay's shoulder. "Two things then. Firstly, when he offers you his word, there is absolutely no reason not to take it, and offer yours in return."

Tharkay frowned, but made no comment.

"Secondly," he continued, leaning in closer, his voice dropping low, "you will be happy to know that despite his initial obliviousness, Captain William Laurence is an excellent kisser."

Tharkay flinched, and suppressed the reaction with his entire being, standing frozen in place. "At this moment, nothing seems further from the realm of possibility as that."

His other self drew back, spreading his hands. "He is a man who will challenge Napoleon Bonaparte for you, who will come to his senses at your words, and recall his life at the sight of your face. Does any of that seem more likely?"

"No," he answered shortly.

He smiled, a touch rueful. "But it will happen, Tenzing. Believe it."

\--

The conversation haunted him--the brazen honesty in those words, the sheer audacity of it. The words followed his every move, ringing in his mind throughout his trip, soured the dinner he already had trouble attending, and their frantic escape from palace guards. It carried him through every splash of murky waters, every attempt to dodge being found, because he was a fool, and despite everything, he retained still some small spark of hope.

And when Laurence extended his hand with eyes as clear as a cloudless sky, his grip as firm as the solid earth beneath them, Tharkay met his gaze, and accepted it.

**Author's Note:**

> Your prompt was wonderful, and my mind really wanted to go wild with it aha... I hope you liked the fic anyway!


End file.
